


Tremble

by karcathy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:11:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karcathy/pseuds/karcathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is John Egbert, and your boyfriend is scared of thunder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tremble

 

You first find out Dave’s one and only phobia one day when you’re hanging out with him at your house. You’re lying on the floor in your bedroom, playing Monopoly. Dave is pretending not to be intent on winning, and you’re pretending you actually know how to win. You’re the little dog, and Dave ironically chose the iron, making you giggle. Your strategy is mainly focused on getting all the railroads, the water works and the electric company, and Dave is ruthlessly buying everything he lands on and populating his properties with houses and hotels. He swears loudly and profusely every time he lands on income tax, and you’re certain that more than once he uses his position as banker to slip himself extra money. Rain starts hammering against the window just as you land on a community chest, and Dave pulls a face.

“Glad we’re not outside, eh?” you say, collecting fifty dollars.

He nods, rolling the dice and getting a ten. He lands on go to jail, and, cursing, moves his iron into the jail. You giggle, then groan as you land on one of his properties and have to pay him thirty-two dollars. He glances at the window as he accepts your money, and you think he might just look a little nervous. Picking up his sunglasses, which he discarded earlier because “Jesus, Egbert, it’s fucking dark in your room”, he fiddles with the frame, and you realise something is definitely wrong.

“Hey, you okay?” you ask.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine,” he replies, glancing up at you and then back at the sunglasses, “I’m bored of this game. It never fucking ends anyway.”

You laugh.

“Okay,” you say, starting to pack it back into the box, “Let’s do something else.”

He nods, moving to help you, and you notice his hands are shaking slightly. You wonder what could make Dave Strider lose his cool.

 

Your question is answered when a fork of lightning cracks down from the sky, illuminating the room, followed by a crash of thunder. At the sound, Dave drops the cards in his hand and throws himself into your arms, knocking you over onto your back.

“Hey,” you say, putting your arms around him, “Are you scared of thunder?”

“Shut up,” he says, his voice muffled by your t-shirt.

You giggle a little, then force yourself to stop.

“It’s okay,” you say, patting him on the back, “Uh. Is there anything... Can I do something to help?”

“This is fine,” he tells your shirt, hugging you tightly, his fingers digging into your sides.

“Okay.”

You lie there, watching the rain hammering on the window and the flashes of lightning lighting up the sky, and at every crash of thunder, Dave jerks and holds you a little tighter. You stroke his hair, and try to think of something soothing to say. You can’t, so you just stay quiet, waiting for the storm to end. After a while, Dave stops reacting to every crash, and instead just holds you close, quivering slightly. You whisper that it’ll be over soon, and he says he knows.

 

The storm takes several hours to end, and by the time it does, Dave has fallen asleep in your arms. You watch the last bits of rain trickle down the window, and shake him gently awake.

“It’s over,” you whisper, smiling.

“Good,” he says, then smiles slightly apprehensively, “Thanks.”

You shrug.

“No problem,” you say, blushing a little.

“Don’t tell anyone, right?”

“Not a soul,” you promise.

He smiles gratefully, and kisses you. You don’t even think about using this to blackmail him, or at least, not for more than a couple of seconds.

 

The next time a thunderstorm hits, you walk all the way to his place in the rain. You forgot to take a jacket, so you’re soaked by the time you get there, but you’re more worried about him than yourself. You retrieve the spare key and let yourself in, wringing your soaked t-shirt out over the doorstep. You find him curled up on his bed, shaking. Not saying a word, you curl yourself up around him, burying your face in his hair and wrapping your arm around his waist.

“Sorry about the water,” you whisper, “I forgot to bring my coat.”

“Idiot,” he replies.

You lie in silence for a couple of minutes.

“Thanks,” he whispers eventually.

“No problem,” you reply, kissing the top of his head.

You hold him tight until the storm is over. He never asks you to come, but you make sure you do, for every storm after that, and you think he wouldn’t have it any other way.  


End file.
